


Be careful what you wish for

by LiveOakWithMoss



Series: Punching out my dancelines [31]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, DWMP verse, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Oh Finrod, Sexual Fantasy, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-01 10:13:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5201996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveOakWithMoss/pseuds/LiveOakWithMoss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finrod's wet nightmare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be careful what you wish for

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snartha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snartha/gifts).



> 0\. This was a No Shame November prompt from Snartha (and based on [this art](http://snartha.tumblr.com/post/131085147226/3-happy-birthday-for-the-requests-how-about)) that probably shouldn't be in this collection but I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF  
> 1\. This is 30% bickering, 30% graphic sex, 20% humor/crack, and 10%…like, I’d say I was sorry, but no shame, right?

“Ouch! I  _told_  you we should have done this somewhere else.”

“What, like in that trash pit you call  _your_  bed? I think not. I’m already going to have to burn these sheets.”

“Ooh, way to sound enthusiastic about the proceedings, you Puritan. Listen, if you’re not interested, I can just take over from here.”

“Hah, like I would allow that. And Puritan? Look around you, what about this screams prudish to you? Anyway, I’m telling you you’re imagining things if you think my bed is any shorter than yours.”

“Then explain to me why I keep falling off.”

“That’s because there are three of us on here, idiot! Unless you’re hiding a California King somewhere in that hashish den of a room of yours, this is going to be the best we can do.”

“God, shut up already and get his clothes off.”

Someone fumbled for Finrod’s zipper, and Finrod caught his breath, torn between laughter at his companions and awe that this was actually happening. Someone pushed his shirt up, laying a rough kiss to his stomach, and Finrod closed his eyes, trying to steady his heartbeat. Arms wrapped around him as a warm body settled against his back, and a voice murmured in his ear, “You realize you are hopelessly spoiled, yes?”

“Yes,” Finrod breathed, and tilted his head up so he could find Curufin’s lips.

Hopelessly spoiled, and insanely lucky.

Curufin kissed him softly, a contrast to the quick work Caranthir was making of his clothes, and Finrod’s hips jerked involuntarily as he felt Caranthir mouth at the waistband of his shorts. Caranthir teased a moment as though he was going to pull them down with his teeth, before nipping at Finrod’s hip instead. Finrod let out a soft moan into Curufin’s mouth, and Curufin wrapped his fingers lightly around the front of Finrod’s throat.

“Shh.”

“How am I supposed to be quiet when I’m between the two of you?” Finrod whispered, as Curufin bit at his lower lip and then drew back, one arm still wrapped around Finrod’s chest. “Oh my god, Carnistir, please – ”

Caranthir grunted as he tugged down Finrod’s shorts, freeing him roughly and wrapping a practiced hand around his cock. “You could be doing a better job of shutting him up, Curvo.”

Curufin rolled his eyes. “I can only do so much when you’re – Yes, doing things like that.” He sighed as Caranthir took Finrod into his mouth, and Finrod cried out so loudly that Curufin clamped a hand over his mouth.

“Hush,” he whispered, his other hand wandering down Finrod’s chest, his lips just brushing Finrod’s ear. “Hush you impossible, spoiled thing, or someone might come to investigate… Wouldn’t want that, would you?”

Finrod closed his eyes, imagining the door opening and someone walking in on the scene in the small room: Finrod stretched mostly naked over the rumpled blankets, held tightly in Curufin’s arms; Curufin bent over him and whispering rebukes into his ear; Caranthir kneeling on the foot of the bed, his mouth busy on Finrod’s cock. Despite Curufin’s warnings, thinking of being interrupted only caused the heat to rise further in Finrod, and he turned feverishly in Curufin’s arms to kiss him hard, pressing his tongue into Curufin’s willing mouth as Curufin wound his fingers into Finrod’s hair and squeezed Finrod’s throat.

Now Caranthir was spreading Finrod’s legs further apart, settling himself between them as he reached over the side of the bed for the small bottle of lube he’d brought with him.

“Don’t spill it,” warned Curufin, before tucking his face against Finrod’s neck and sucking a bruise to his skin.

“I thought you were burning these sheets anyway.” Caranthir lifted Finrod slightly, hooking Finrod’s knees over his shoulders, and Finrod groaned helplessly as he felt Caranthir pressing against him.

“Please,” rasped Finrod, his fingers painfully tight where he clutched at Curufin. “Please, please, oh god, it’s so good, you’re so good, you’re both so – ”

“Yes, we know,” said Curufin, with a hint of amusement.

“I’m so – ”

“Spoiled,” growled Caranthir, and pushed into him.

Finrod cried out again, and this time Curufin didn’t bother to muffle him, watching with fascinated, bright eyes as Finrod raised his hips to meet Caranthir’s thrusts.

Finrod arched back, clinging to Curufin, desperate for his lips again, and Curufin obliged him, making small sounds of his own now, his fingers stroking soothingly over Finrod’s chest.

“Curvo, Curvo, god…”

“Mrow.”

“What?” gasped Finrod, coming up for breath, confused.

“ _Mrow_.”

“I – I don’t understand – ”

“ROWWLLMROAW. Owh.”

Finrod slammed upright in his dark and empty room, his heart pounding, and looked straight into the accusing eyes of –

“ _Cat_ ,” he groaned, and dropped back down to his pillows. His sheets were soaked with sweat, but there was no one else beside him. “Oh, you damn – ”

“Graw,” said Ulmo Junior, and tried to walk up the bed to him, but Finrod pulled his knees up defensively and kicked out at her.

“No, get off, oh, god  _dammit_.” Finrod squeezed his eyes shut as Ulmo Junior dropped to the floor with an indignant thump. He half wished he would fall back asleep and pick up where he’d left off, unsure whether he was more upset by having had the dream in the first place, or by the fact that he hadn’t been able to enjoy it to its conclusion. He rolled over in bed, burying his burning face in the pillow.

“Whyyyy,” he moaned softly, as he considered the three things he was left to deal with now: a lingering sense of shame, a raging erection, and a newfound fetish he had never asked for, and which would never be fulfilled. “What even  _am_  I?”

Two voices whispered as one in his subconscious: _Hopeless_.


End file.
